


Ice Skating is an Hour Glass

by Gala



Category: Hockey RPF
Genre: Gen, Growing Up, Magic-Users
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-14
Updated: 2015-11-14
Packaged: 2018-05-01 13:12:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 499
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5207123
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gala/pseuds/Gala
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Alex grows up with magic.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Ice Skating is an Hour Glass

**Author's Note:**

> This is a writing experiment to tell a story through a series of drabbles (100 words each). I use the word count on Word which doesn't match up with AO3 which is why the word count looks odd.

There aren’t many witches any more. Nobody talks about it. This is a rational century and witchery with its arbitrary rules doesn’t fit. It certainly isn’t a career choice. Tatyana isn’t so blind as to ignore the signs. When the puck trails phosphorescence in its wake as the twilight descends there is no denying her son will need training. The black cars of the ministers, the spring of a good court, and the way magic limes her son for just a second – these things can’t be ignored. On the ice Sasha is untutored power and childish enthusiasm. He will learn.

* * *

Magic isn’t hockey but it isn’t horrible either. He didn’t believe it, not at first, not until Mama showed him her own bright magic. When he comes from school one day there is a man with pale grey eyes sitting at their kitchen table. They drink strong tea while Sasha watches the man make flames slither around his fingers.

“He will teach you to use it. But you must never tell anyone, do you understand?” Mama asks.

He nods with the solemnness only a child can have; he's promising something hard without realizing what it will mean for the future.

* * *

Hockey is speed and the way the ice sings to his blades. Magic is about focus and balance. Yuriy is patient but demanding. He reminds Sasha of the way his Mama demands he do better. Once when it’s late and he isn’t with the team he lets the magic curl over his blades until he can watch patterns flare to life as he skates and shoots the puck through the curves that glow on the ice. Yuriy’s hand slices through the air. Magic slams back into him, knocks him down. The patterns fade and Yuriy reminds him of his promise.

* * *

Magical backlash hurts. It blisters red lines over his skin, curves along his ribs and over his hips so the skin hurts every time he skates; every time he moves. At first Mama fusses over him until Yuriy tells her what happened. Then she nods in agreement and says the pain is a good reminder to think about his actions. He can’t be so careless. It might be easily dismissed as a trick of the eye but there’s no reason to risk it. At practice he is careful not to let anyone see the blisters and hides them under gauze.

* * *

The ice always listens. Sasha likes the way it hums as he skates. He whispers secrets to the outdoor rink because he knows it will carry them away – safely unheard - as it melts. He trusts the ice even when it’s soft slush stalling the puck and making everything hard. He never lets the magic coat his blades so they sing against the ice when they shouldn’t, never lets it add weight to the puck. Cheating his way to a win is worse than not winning. He knows this as sure as breathing. Magic can never bring him any Cup.


End file.
